


A human soul

by Weve_got_a_runner



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-12-16 21:43:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11837634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Weve_got_a_runner/pseuds/Weve_got_a_runner
Summary: Hermione is given a choice when sent back to the 1940s. How can she protect the future? There are 2 options. Don't create a time paradox and try to create as little change as possible. or change a lot, in order to save wizarding Britain.  But it is not as straightforward as that.The past is not quite as black and white as it might seem. while completing her self-set task, she must try and keep herself out of trouble. and as 1/3rd of the golden trio, trouble finds her.





	1. CHAPTER 1 -PROLOGUE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Harry Potter world, which is trademarked by J. K. Rowling the story I tell here is my own invention, and it is not purported or believed to be part of J.K. Rowling's story canon. This story is for entertainment only and is not part of the official story line.

_The air exploded. They had been grouped together, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred and Percy, the two Death Eaters at their feet, one stunned, the other Transfigured: and in that fragment of a moment, when danger seemed, temporarily at bay, the world was rent apart. Hermione felt herself flying through the air, and all she could do was hold as tightly as possible to that thin stick of wood that was her one and only weapon, and shield her head in her arms: she heard no screams and yells of her companions._

However, the world resolved itself into pain and semi darkness. Everything was quiet, none of the shouts and explosions from the battle could be heard. She lay on the ground confused and dazed. Was the silence due to the ringing in her ears blocking out the world, or maybe she was dead?.  She must have fallen asleep laid in the unknown because the next thing she noticed is that she was moving: not being carried, however, the movements were too smooth for this. Not daring to open her eyes for the fear of the unknown, she kept herself limp while straining to hear what was occurring around her.

Footsteps. The world was silent apart from the repetitive, tap tap tap.  She concluded that it had to be a man from the heaviness of these steps. This information, however, was pretty useless at the moment. Hermione was deep in the analysis of these footsteps: having decided he was tall and had a confident personality, by the time that they came to a halt.  A creak of a door opening and she was levitated through, not without her head hitting the hard wood. Surprisingly she managed to prevent herself tensing up or calling out with pain. She was then laid softly down on some sort of bed before a female voice cried out.

“ Oh my,” the motherly sounding women called out “whatever happened to this poor girl?”

“I don’t know Madam Bonney”, a young male voice replied “I was walking my rounds and she was just lying on the floor in a seventh-floor corridor”

He sounded intelligent as if he had got through life charming anyone he met. Probably a Slytherin.

“Would you run along and fetch Headmaster Dippet, Mr Riddle, I’m sure this is something that he needs to know about.” The Matron asked

Hermione didn’t hear Riddle’s response. She didn’t hear him leave the infirmary. But he did hear her when she gasped in surprise as his name was spoken. _Now, this was getting interesting_ he thought.

 


	2. CHAPTER 2 - LEMERCIER

Hermione awoke again to be surrounded by people. Younger versions of professors Slughorn and Dumbledore, Headmaster Dippet,(whom she recognised from his portrait which had sat in the headmaster's office) a woman in Healer uniform who she assumed was Madam Bonney, and two other adults who were, in Hermione’s mind, the heads of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff houses. They were all muttering; she picked up the odd word such as _“wards_ ”, _“dark magic_ ” and _“Grindelwald”._   It was 1944.

“Ah our young casualty has awoken” cried Dumbledore, the classic twinkle in his eyes showing.

Hermione just stared. The professors stared back as if expecting her to give them a reason for her being there. Professor Dippet took the initiative to ask.

“Hello,” he welcomed “I am the headmaster here and I must welcome you to Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. We weren’t expecting any guests; might I inquire who you are?”

Hermione hesitated. She needed to get this right; everything she did in this time period would impact on the entire future. Also if she did something wrong, it could lead to her death.

“My name is Hermione …   Lemercier” she spoke slowly, adding a slight twinge of a French accent to her speech. It was the first name to come to her head, That of a French muggle whom she had met on one of her family holidays to France.

“And why might you be here?” questioned Slughorn, speaking gently as if she didn’t understand the language “ escaping from Grindelwald I presume”

“Oiu!” she exclaimed, taking his prompt

“And why could you not wait and send an owl requesting a place before showing up in the middle of the night un announced” interrogated a pointy man, probably the head of Ravenclaw house

“Well Monsieur, That was the plan, alas Grindlewald showing up and murdering my parents was not part of the plan” Hermione retorted angry at this man’s attitude.

Seeing tensions rise, Dumbledore interrupted.

“Miss Lemercier, we did not mean offence but with the current climate you must understand that the school has to protect itself” he soothed

“ I…” she started before being cut off

“Albus, calm.” Dippet spoke, “what harm could she do?”

He gestured to Hermione; this made Hermione look down at herself. She seemed very covered in bandages and her 90s clothes had been removed; now being clad in a long ruffled night dress.

Dumbledore studied her, and then looked back to Dippet. Before he was able to respond, another inquisition was occurring.

 “Education Miss Lemercier, have you received any?” asked the pointy man condescendingly

“Of course” Replied Hermione, trying to hide her annoyance. “ I was home-schooled, my parents didn’t believe in sending me away for months on end.”

“Well we have the basics, all this hassle can be dealt with in the morning, she needs to rest” commanded Madam Bonney.

The adults shared a couple of looks before turning to leave through the double doors of the infirmary.

 

Tom Riddle had been waiting outside. He was listening to the conversation intrigued to what this new arrival might mean. However, from what he had heard, nothing seemed to be cleared up, to the point that the boy had, even more, questions to ask than when he stumbled across her lying in strange clothes, unconscious and bloody in an upstairs corridor.

He swept silently away before the professors could reach the doors he hid behind, intent on finding answers to his troublesome questions that the professors were able to ignore.


	3. CHAPTER 3 - WELCOME TO YOUR NEW HOME

Tom Riddle paced, it was two whole days since Hermione Lemercier appeared. Two whole days without a sight or sound of her existence. Two whole days and Tom had failed to find out any information about her and her family. He never failed.

He had scoured over French newspapers and pureblood genealogy books borrowed from his Slytherin peers and he found nothing on the name. He pulled some strings asking for records for the continental equivalent of O.W.Ls, to find her results. Still nothing. Something was up. No human has zero records on paper, but this girl did. 

 

On the third day since her arrival, something happened, however.  The breakfast on Friday 6th May started out pretty normally. Lestrange and Malfoy were discussing some girl that they both wanted to bed, even daring to ask his opinions on the matter. He didn’t care for things like that, he had much more important aspirations than to fuck as many skirts as time would allow. Riddle stared ahead trying to ignore the trivialities around him.

However, it wasn’t long before these stopped. Professor Dippet had removed himself from the long table and was now standing at the lectern. Speeches were normally reserved for dinner where all the students would be attending at the same time.

Dippet began after thanking the students for their silence.

“ You must all be aware of the troubles occurring on the continent at the movement,” he paused, choosing his words carefully, “ and now it must fall on the hands of Hogwarts to do something about this, to aid those affected by the conflict…”

While he spoke the majority of students, but not Tom Riddle: he was never the majority, Didn’t notice a girl slip into the hall from one of the great hall’s side doors. It was her. The mystery of the seventh floor. The mystery of Hermione Lemercier.

“… and  I would like to welcome a new sixth-year student: Hermione Lemercier!”

All eyes were on her, hundreds of them staring up at her as if expecting her to breathe fire or perform some other feat of magic. Tom could tell that she wasn’t a shy girl from the way that she held herself through this scrutiny, however, she did not seem overly confident; an unattractive trait. The other Slytherins had noticed her too, he could see Theodore Nott, a fellow sixth year smirking at her. Malfoy a year her senior was chuckling something with Lestrange. For some unknown reason, this displeased Riddle. He quickly intellectualised his feelings pushing them off as an annoyance that he wasn’t getting any praise from more or less saving her life.

Hermione looked across the crowd seeing no familiar faces but one: The boy that would go on to cause such devastation for the wizarding world. As luck would have it though, the boy that saved her from bleeding out alone. She moved towards the stool ready to be sorted, a thousand eyes following every move.  Before she sat though, the hat had a song.

 

_“Oh hello, bonjour to all of you there,_

_To sing to you over once a year_

_Is something that I’ve never dare,_

_But situation calls for me_

_To do this duty anum old,_

_And to help decisions_

_Feel much less bold,_

_To create the future of our sons,_

_May feel equivalent to_

_Lifting a thousand tonnes,_

_But to save this human soul_

_We all must work together_

_To achieve this one goal._

_In this time where tensions are high,_

_It is even more important_

**_not_ ** _to just stand by,_

_To act and work together for sure,_

_Is something that is needed_

_Premature,_

_For if we wait until it all falls down,_

_It may feel like the world_

_Begins to drown._

_This may be short_

_But you will all see,_

_That in **this** future_

**_I_ ** _will be the referee.”_

The meaning of the song glossed over Riddle at this moment, but in times to come, it would be severely understood.

Hermione sat upon the stool, and the hat was placed gracelessly onto her head.

 _“Hermione Granger”_ it spoke into her mind alone

 _“Lemercier”_ she corrected fearing for her cover story. She had spent the last 2 days explaining her apparent life story to the professors as well as being tested for her capabilities in school. But she would not let a hole be found in the spider web of lies that she had spun.

_“It seems that you have changed since I last saw you. You are no longer the 11-year old that sat so enthusiastically”_

_“That’s what war does”_ she explained

_“Hmmm… I have a few paths that I could quite easily send you down. But it will be up to you take the opportunity,  making the right decisions along the way. And with that, it will have to be…”_

“SLYTHERIN!!!” the hat called out to the entire student body.

Cheers went up from the Slytherins too her right, but she made no effort to move. That word had petrified her. She couldn’t be in Slytherin, she would refuse on the grounds of morality, and no one should be subjected to punishment by snake pit. However, she had to move when she started to hear a few heckles from the Gryffindor table. If she was a Gryffindor as she believed, she must have the courage to do this.

Riddle took control, forcing those around his gang to move up to clear her space.

“Good one” called Burke in a stage whisper, he received a single raised eyebrow in response.

She made eye contact with _him_. She had exactly a second to decide what her plan of action was going to be. This sorting meant would be in a too close of a position for the ‘avoid him and not change time approach’. From the short time in the hall, she could tell how much he was surrounded in lackeys, the ‘kill him immediately’ plan would work either. Somehow she was going to have to act ‘normal’ and over time get into a position where she could end him without him suspecting her. And that plan would mean she would have to go against all better judgment and sit in the space cleared for her. So she did.

 _This is going to be easy_ thought Riddle. She was doing exactly what he wanted her to do without him requiring any effort. He would clear up all the discrepancies in no time, and then he would be able to focus on his more important wider goals.

He stood up, a polite gesture to offer the lady a seat. His palm out offering a handshake.

“Welcome to your new family, Miss Lemercier.” he spoke his signature charm oozing like caramel off him, “Tom Riddle, Prefect, pleased to make your acquaintance”

She took his hand but he didn’t shake it, he kissed it and then guided her to the bench. That had been unexpected.

“Riddle is not a name I’ve heard of” she replied, trying to gauge some information about the true personality of Tom Riddle

“ I could say the same for you Miss Lemercier” he retorted, hiding his anger and confusion at her forwardness. She had defiantly reacted to his name in the infirmary. Or had it just been a gasp in her sleep? Unlikely.

He didn’t wait for her to respond but continued talking “These are some names that you might recognise them. Abraxas Malfoy 7th year to your right, To his right Ptolemy Lestrange also in the seventh year,  Across the bench there’s Theodore Nott, Jeramirus Burke and  Iberius Travers all sixth year like you and I. Down the way are the sixth year girls you’ll be dorming with: Crouch, Selwyn, Rosier and another Lestrange. All members of the sacred 28.”

He smiled condescendingly at her started again “That’s a lot of information, none of us would be offended if you forgot.”

To which she repeated everything that he had just said to her word for word. He was going to be a challenge to deal with.

Riddle could feel his annoyance rise. Did this girl really dare to undermine him, The Dark Lord? There was more to her than what the eye saw.  The rest of breakfast went slowly, with Lemercier asking questions about the school which he swore he could see a glint in her eyes suggesting she knew the answers.  Alas, he couldn’t use legillimacy, if she was one herself or an occlumens, however unlikely, she would notice. However, from the timetable that she had discussed with the group, he gathered that she must be very intelligent for a women: she was in all the same advanced study classes as him apart from the exception of women’s studies for her and Quidditch for him.  He didn’t count this as a class however, these were mandatory for their retrospective genders and he despised being forced to play the sport for 2 hours every week. It wasn’t that he was bad at it, it came with the same excuse: he had better thing to be doing with his time.

Friday morning came with a free period. Riddle did the gentlemanly thing of offering Lemercier a tour around the school: it would be a good chance to get to know her secrets, and maybe even get her fawning over him like the rest of the females at the school. Intelligence is always useful. However, it was not just him with an agenda for that time. Hermione decided it would be good to join him. Dippet had already given her a tour the previous day but she needed to get close to Riddle, no matter what she was going to do.

He hadn’t shown her any of the familiar evil that the Voldemort of her time has seeped, but she still felt a twinge of anxiety go through her heart as she realised that she would be alone with this fantastically dark wizard.

He took her arm and lead her out of the main doors, obviously starting the tour at the greenhouses.

“So…” riddle started, trying to answer his previously unsolved questions “ How are your family dealing with you being so _far_ from home”

She ran her free hand through the leaves of a shrub.

“… Grindelwald…” she hesitated to layer on the sad orphan act “ he…”

“Dead?” he interrupted,

Seeing her nod he continued

“I’m sorry. Both my parents are gone too.”

So he had already killed his father and made the Horcrux at this point.

“They would have hated me coming here if they were alive, but they thought that it would be best. Its why I didn’t come here earlier”

Riddle walked her in between the greenhouses to a courtyard, where Hermione, in turn, pretended to marvel t its beauty.

“Not Beauxbattons?” he questioned

“Well I was going to do my O.W.L examinations there but my mother didn’t like it for some reason, something about being snobs, she once went there for an exchange and hated it”

“O.W.Ls are taken in 5th year” Tom retorted thinking he had found a break in her story

“Not in Beauxbattons, I was due to take them next month”

That answered the question of no data, she was a 6th year so 17 so had no data about a trace on her wand. French took the owls a year later, the fact he would have to verify. And her parents were oddly protective. Nevertheless, the lack of evidence for he lying aside, there was something off about her. She seemed very guarded about what she said and it seemed he would have to get close to her to discover the reality of it all. This would prove little of a problem to him, he would just give her a dashing smile and she would pour out her secrets.

They had come inside again by that point and the conversation turned too just general aspects of the school.

He had tried to ask more about her parents but he just changed the subject, asking about a painting on the wall. To most this would seem like a girl grieving but to Tom, as usual, he saw it differently.

Hermione on the other hand felt, quite naively, that the morning had gone quite well. She believed that she was the one playing Riddle. She had noticed some slight suspicion from Riddle, but hadn’t quite noticed the fact that he didn’t trust anything about her.


End file.
